High Stakes Crime: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel (Shelby Nichols Adventure Book 15)

by Colleen Helme

  “So that’s the reason for all this?”

  “I think so, but I’m not one hundred percent sure.” I wiggled my eyebrows. “Probably more like ninety-nine percent.”

  Billie chuckled. “I think we need a sit-down with them. Maybe I can get an exclusive interview. If not, I’ll ask them if I can come along to document the expedition.”

  “Ooo… that sounds intriguing. I wouldn’t mind tagging along myself.”

  “Really? You don’t seem like a person who likes roughing it out in the woods.”

  I chuckled. “That’s because you don’t know that my grandpa used to go prospecting for that very same mine. He even took me with him a few times when I was younger. It’s given me a touch of gold fever, if you know what I mean.”

  “Are you kidding me? That’s insane. We should totally do it. I’ll see if I can get Michael to approve my part, and maybe you can see about getting some backing.” She was thinking that being so close to Manetto might give me some sway… maybe he’d even invest in the venture and send me along to represent him.

  “I can see where you’re going with this… and I kind of like it.”

  She grinned, happy we were on the same page. I wasn’t so sure it was a good idea, even if I wanted to make it happen. It could end up being a waste of time and money, and the odds of finding a mountain of gold were pretty slim. Still, who knew? Would Uncle Joey go for it? Did I even want to bring it up?

  We made it back to the newspaper offices in time for me to head to the academy for my shooting lesson. At least I wasn’t late, and shooting at a target would definitely help me work out some of my latent excitement.

  I didn’t think Dr. Stewart was a bad guy, but I wasn’t so sure about Ian Smith. My first impression of Ian wasn’t good, but why was that? I had nothing concrete to go on except for a feeling. Of course, he had stared at me with distrust a few times, but that was because I’d questioned the journal’s authenticity. Still, if it was real like they said, he had nothing to worry about, so why the anger?

  I needed to find out more about their plans to know what to do. But… was it something I really wanted to get involved with? Probably not. Still, the lure of going prospecting for the lost gold mine my grandpa had looked for all of his life, was a lot bigger incentive than I thought.

  Billie had been thinking that Uncle Joey might want to invest, but what about me? Maybe I could mention it to Uncle Joey and use my share of the tournament winnings to invest? That way, I wouldn’t have to use my own savings for it.

  Either way, if I picked up that the journal was the real deal, I’d go for it. Finding the Lost Taft Mine would be like fulfilling my Grandpa’s legacy, and I couldn’t say no to that.

  CHAPTER 3

  I spent the next half hour on the shooting range with Dante. He noticed a big change in me from yesterday. At first he thought it was because of his awesome pep talk and teaching skills, but that didn’t quite fit the focus and determination I’d suddenly acquired. I’d obviously had a change of heart. So what had happened?

  He brought the target back in to take a look and rubbed his chin. I’d hit it in all the right spots with only one bullet hole out of the circle. “You’re hitting the target without even flinching. What’s changed since yesterday?”

  “You mean besides your awesome pep talk?”

  That caught him off-guard, and his mouth dropped open. I rushed on to explain. “Well… besides that, I received a keepsake from the newspaper for stopping a shooter and possibly saving lives. I think that helped me put things in perspective again.”

  He nodded. “Good to hear.”

  “Plus… if it comes to defending my partner, or someone I love, I want to make sure I won’t let them down.”

  “That’s a good attitude to have. In this business, it’s easy to get overwhelmed by the negative, because you see a lot of it, so I’m glad you’re doing better.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Want to go again?”

  “Sure.”

  Ten minutes later, the target was full of holes, and I was done shooting. “Thanks,” I told Dante. “I guess this could be considered therapeutic, right?” Dante nodded, sending me a smile. “So when should I come back?”

  “You still have a few hours left for your training, so you can come back anytime. In fact, you’re welcome to come back tomorrow if you want.”

  “Really?” At his nod, I continued. “I just might do that.”

  “Good. And Shelby… keep up the good work.”

  “Thanks.”

  After washing up, I hurried to the precinct, ready to see Dimples. I wasn’t sure if he was ready for me or not, but that didn’t matter since I wanted to look at the police database for anything I could find about Ian Smith. I doubted that he’d have a police record, but it never hurt to check.

  I found Dimples sitting at his desk, engrossed with something on his computer. Seeing my chance to sneak up on him, I slid into the seat beside him. He jerked with surprise, and I laughed. “I haven’t done that for a long time. It felt good.”

  He shook his head. “I’ll bet.”

  “So what have you got for me?”

  He grimaced. “Well… I have this case that’s going nowhere, and I don’t have any resources to help me.”

  “You have me.”

  That brought his dimples out in full force, and they rolled around on his cheeks, sparking joy in my heart.

  “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “The victim is a mortician by the name of Troy Hudson, and he was killed in his funeral home. There was no sign of forced entry, so he must have known his killer, and he was struck from behind with a blunt object. It happened during the night, and the security cameras were off line, so it looks like somebody turned them off on purpose. But that’s not the crazy part.”

  “What is?”

  He shook his head. “There was a body in the crematorium… well… what used to be a body. Only ashes were left, so there’s no way to know who was in there. So now it’s been classified as a double homicide, and all we have is the fact that Troy lived in an apartment at the mortuary. We think Troy cremated the body, since he’s the one with the code to operate the crematorium. But why would someone kill him?”

  My brows drew together. “To keep him from talking?”

  Dimples shrugged. “Maybe. We’ve already spoken with the family and the other employees. We came up empty-handed. But now that I’ve got you, I’d like to talk to them again. You game?”

  “Sure.” I checked my watch, finding it close to eleven. “I have an appointment at one, so I’m free until then.” Uncle Joey had sent me a text this morning, asking me to come to his office at one, and I was eager to find out what was going on with Jackie.

  “Great. Let’s go.” As we left, Dimples wondered if my appointment was with Manetto, but he quickly dismissed it, knowing it was a sore spot between us. “So… how did the press conference go with Billie?”

  I told him all about it on the way to the mortuary. “Can you believe it? Finding the Lost Taft Mine would be a major discovery, but I’m not sure it’s all on the up-and-up. I think Ian Smith has something up his sleeve, but I don’t know what it is yet.”

  “Well, I’m sure between you and Billie, you can figure it out.”

  “That’s the hope.” A tinge of guilt ran over me since I’d left out the part where Billie was hoping to join the expedition, along with the other part where I might back it with my poker winnings so I’d have a way to join too. But, since it wasn’t a sure thing, why borrow trouble?

  We pulled into the nearly empty parking lot, and I followed Dimples to the door. “Have they opened for business?”

  “Not yet, although I think the victim’s funeral is tomorrow.”

  Dimples opened the massive front door and we stepped inside. The entryway and parlor were painted in a calming blend of beige and cream, with artfully arranged flowers on the coffee tables and landscape paintings on the walls. Dimples led the way down
the hall to the office, and we came upon a man sitting at a desk going over some papers.

  He glanced up, and his face tightened. “What’s going on? Have you found something?” The sight of Dimples reminded him of the hours he’d spent answering all his stupid questions. Did the detective still consider him a suspect?

  “Hello Barry. We just need a few minutes of your time,” Dimples began. “This is my colleague, Shelby Nichols. May we sit down?”

  Barry pursed his lips and gestured to the chairs in front of his desk. “Go ahead.” He was thinking that his brother had left him in a bind, and he’d just discovered that a big chunk of money was missing. What had Troy been up to? Whatever it was, it had gotten him killed.

  “What can you tell us about Troy in the days before he was killed?” I asked. “Did he seem nervous or anxious about anything?”

  Barry shook his head. “I’ve already told you everything I know. He seemed distracted, but that was nothing new. To be honest, he hated the business. He tried a few other things, but he always came back because he needed a job.

  “A few months ago, he said he was back for good, and he’d pull his weight around here. For the most part, that’s just what he did. I thought he’d turned his life around, you know?”

  I nodded, picking up that Barry had given Troy another chance, but now he regretted it. “What about your finances? Did he have access to the business’s bank accounts?”

  Barry’s eyes narrowed. How did I know? He might as well answer truthfully. “Unfortunately… yes. I added his name to the accounts so he could help with paying the bills.”

  He pointed at his computer. “I just found out a bunch of money is missing. He must have taken it, but I don’t know why. He was really making an effort, and I was… well… I thought he’d turned over a new leaf. But I guess he fooled me.”

  I nodded. “Do you think he might have been involved with the wrong kind of people before he came back to work for you?”

  Barry shrugged. “I don’t know. He didn’t tell me anything, but it seems likely now. He was always trying to get rich quick, you know? But he’d never taken money from the business before.”

  “Do you think he was the person who cremated the body that night, or could it have been his killer?”

  “To be honest, I think Troy must have cremated the body, but I guess I could be wrong.” Since there were safeguards in place for the operator that only he and Troy knew, it didn’t seem possible, unless Troy was coerced. But that didn’t make sense. The killer would have just put Troy in there too.

  “Do you think he may have done something like this before? Could Troy cremate a body for someone without your knowledge?”

  That was something Barry had tried not to think about too hard. But with everything else he’d discovered, Troy probably had, especially given the fact that he lived in the basement apartment. Hell, he could have done anything.

  “He could have. Now that I think about it, the gas bill’s been a lot higher than it should be. It increased right after he came back to work. That means it could have been going on for several months. I just never put it together.”

  “How much money is missing?” I asked.

  Letting out a resigned sigh, Barry glanced at his computer. “He’s been taking a few thousand here and there, but if I added it all up, it’s probably close to thirty grand. The last withdrawal was about a month ago, but nothing since.”

  I glanced at Dimples. “Have you questioned Troy’s friends?”

  “Yeah, but I think we’d better speak with them again.”

  I turned back to Barry. “Is there a friend that Troy could have been working with?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. He didn’t share a lot of his personal life with me. After our father died, I took over the business. Because of that, I became more like a dad to him than a brother, so we didn’t have the best relationship.”

  Barry was thinking of all the times he’d chewed Troy out for being irresponsible. Maybe he was partly to blame for Troy’s death. If he hadn’t been so hard on him, maybe he’d still be alive. But dammit, all that money was missing because he’d given Troy a chance. Anger boiled inside of him. There was nothing he could do about it now.

  “I think you could help us figure out a few things,” I said. “You could dig into your bank records and see when the money was withdrawn, and if it was transferred into a different account. It might help us track down his killer.”

  Barry’s face cleared. “Yeah… I can do that.”

  “Good. I was told he lived in an apartment here that you rented to him. Do you mind if we take a look at his room?” I knew the police had confiscated his computer and anything of value to the case, but it wouldn’t hurt to look again.

  “Oh… uh… sure. Let me get the key.” He rummaged through the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a key hanging from a chain with a skeleton head attached. Noticing my raised brows, he shrugged. “That’s Troy’s sense of humor. After he moved in, he insisted on installing a deadbolt on his door… for privacy.”

  “Oh… right.”

  As I followed him to the staircase, Barry was thinking that living in the basement of a mortuary could be disconcerting, even to those in the business, so it made sense that Troy wanted a deadbolt on his door.

  Besides the apartment, the basement was also the place where they did the embalming and prepared the bodies for burial. It didn’t bother him so much anymore, but Troy had always seemed a little more sensitive to those sorts of things, and the deadbolt had helped him feel better. Still, realistically, it wouldn’t stop a ghost.

  Holy hell! I’d thought it was an upstairs apartment. Living in the basement sounded horrible. Dread rolled over me, and I stopped in my tracks. Did I really want to go down there? Nope. Given that I sometimes ‘heard’ dead people, it shook me up even more. “Uh… maybe we don’t need to see the apartment.”

  Barry and Dimples had already gone down the stairs to the basement, leaving me at the top of the staircase. Barry glanced back at me before unlocking the door. “Did you say something?”

  Dimples raised his brows, wondering what was wrong. Then it hit him, and he couldn’t hold back a smile, which turned into a cough as he tried not to laugh. Was I scared? Given that this was a mortuary, it made sense.

  The last time I’d heard a dead person had been at the precinct while interviewing the dead man’s killer. It had scared the crap out of Dimples, although he hated to admit it. But since this was different, it shouldn’t be too bad. It wasn’t like we were there alone in the middle of the night.

  He smiled real big so his dimples did that happy dance in his cheeks. “Come on Shelby. It won’t take long.”

  Letting out a breath, I hurried down the stairs, noticing the chill immediately. Goosebumps broke out on my arms, and I rubbed them.

  Noticing, Barry frowned. “Oh… sorry it’s a little cold down here. We keep the temperature around sixty-two. It’s better for the bodies that way.”

  Why did he have to say that? “How many bodies do you have here now?”

  “Just Troy’s, but I usually have two or three a week.”

  What was I supposed to say to that? That’s nice? How lovely? I just nodded and tried to turn my lips into a smile.

  Barry unlocked the door and pushed it open. Before any of us could step inside, a small, furry object came barreling out of the apartment with a high-pitched yowl. I jerked back, stepping on Dimples’s foot and smacking him with my arm.

  Dimples stepped sideways, putting him right in the cat’s path, and it ran up his pant leg and all the way up his chest to his shoulder. Dimples yelped, and his arms spiraled before he lost his balance. As he fell back against the hallway, the cat jumped off of him and ran up the basement stairs.

  “Oh my gosh!” Barry said. “That was Lola! I had no idea she’d been locked up in there.” Barry took off after her, hoping to find his poor kitty before she destroyed the curtains in the foyer. If she was as mad as she lo
oked, there’d be hell to pay before he could catch her. At least his wife would be happy to know the cat wasn’t lying dead in a ditch somewhere.

  Dimples sat sprawled against the wall, his hair slightly mussed from trying to get Lola off him. He rubbed his shoulder where the cat had dug him with her claws, and I noticed the trail of puncture marks going up his shirt. Was that a drop of blood staining his white shirt? “That was crazy… are you okay?”

  “That damn cat ran up my leg.”

  “Yeah. It… it sure did.” Slapping my hand over my mouth, I began to shake with laughter. I tried hard to keep it in check, but the more I held back, the harder I shook.

  Swearing under his breath, Dimples slowly rose to his feet. Before he straightened to his full height, I burst out laughing. I laughed so hard I doubled over. Tears leaked from my eyes, and I couldn’t catch my breath. I leaned against the wall, laughing hard enough that my stomach cramped.

  Every time I tried to get under control, the vision of the cat running up his pants to his shoulder set me off again, and I could barely stand.

  “Come on…” Dimples took my arm and tugged me into the apartment.

  Following behind him, I made it to the couch before I had to plop down, while another gale of laughter burst out of me. “Attack… of the killer cat.” I laughed harder. “Put that… in your… report.” Just thinking about it sent me into another bout of uncontrolled mirth.

  Dimples rolled his eyes and managed a chuckle or two, but it wasn’t anywhere close to my hilarity. Since I couldn’t seem to stop, he finally left me there and began to search through the apartment on his own. After a few cleansing breaths, I calmed down enough to take in my surroundings.

  The apartment was bigger and nicer than I’d imagined. Of course, the mortuary was a big building, so even taking up half of the basement amounted to a lot of space. A kitchen and dining area took up the corner side of the room and opened into a living room, with an entertainment center along the wall.